Authors: Patricia Burroughs
Abruptly Alex faced her, his eyes as hard as obsidian. “My dear,” he said, his tone of voice silky, “Chris is trying to tell you something about my financial situation, if you’d only listen more carefully. Aren’t you, Chris?”
“For crying out loud, Alex,” Chris said. “You’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think? I wasn’t implying anything a wife wouldn’t know anyway…” He stopped, gave Kennie a sharp look, then stared pointedly at Alex again. “You haven’t told her.”
The blood in her veins turning to ice, Kennie closed her hands into tight fists. “Told me what?”
Alex’s cheeks flushed with ruddy color, but his face remained cool, expressionless. “My family’s not ‘old money.’ They’re not even ‘new money.’ I’m simply from the wrong branch of an old, respected family. I’m a guy who’s inherited nothing but a prominent name. A guy whose knack for numbers and luck at games keeps his bank account solvent. No, more than solvent. Damned healthy.”
“Europe...you said you grew up in Europe.” Kennie looked to Alex for reassurance, but it wasn’t there. “You—you mean you lied to me?”
Alex flinched. “I didn’t lie.” His lips hardened into a forced smile. He raised his chin in subtle defiance. “I was raised on Air Force bases. Some in Europe, and a couple stateside. I didn’t travel the resort circuit or attend a prep school. I was the only child, the only family, of a freewheeling card-sharp sergeant who lived in government housing and didn’t know what to do with a kid.”
“But...why didn’t you tell me?”
“Obviously because I never intended for you to know.”
“Alex, not here. Not now,” Chris said, but Alex brushed his restraining hand away.
“Riding on Chris’s coat tails, gaining entree into his circle, I’ve managed to do quite well—wouldn’t you say, Chris? I go where I please, live as I please, which is very well, indeed. But I have only my winnings to support this expensive life-style. You were so worried about gambling.” His laugh was low and bitter. “Well, I’m afraid I’m worse than a gambler, darling. I’m a fake.”
“I—I don’t believe it.” Kennie grasped for understanding. “You spent thousands of dollars to attend the banquet tonight.”
“My dear, I never lied to you about my generosity. Although you must admit, my ‘investments’ in charities certainly work to my financial advantage. The clothes, the philanthropies—they provide the cover I need to travel in the right company, to gain access to the right people. Nothing more.”
“It’s not ‘nothing more.’ You’re a generous guy, you idiot. What are you trying to do, run her off?” Chris demanded.
A vise closed around her heart; she couldn’t breathe. “I don’t believe you,” she said hoarsely.
“Don’t listen to him, Kennie,” Chris pleaded. “I don’t know what he’s trying to prove, but don’t listen to him.”
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, her hands trembling. She tried to shut out his words, but they were already lodged in her mind, the truth mocking, scorning, taunting, confirming every fear she’d had from the very beginning. A stranger...she had married a stranger she couldn’t trust. And he hadn’t trusted her.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked again, looking helplessly from Chris to Alex. They seemed so far away, and she was suddenly so cold. Her happiness was slipping away from her, and she didn’t understand how or why she had let herself be deceived. All she knew was that each word Alex spoke rang a death knell for their marriage. No, it wasn’t a marriage. It never had been anything but a cruel joke, and all that she deserved for having treated those solemn vows with so little regard.
“It’s simple,” Alex said with deadly reason in his voice. “I couldn’t tell you the truth, not if I wanted you to trust me. Not unless I wanted to drive you away. But God forgive me, I was wrong. You had to know the truth.”
“But not this way,” Kennie pleaded. “Not to tear me apart. You should have told me sooner. You should have told me before—”
“Before what?”
“Before I fell in love with you,” she finished hoarsely.
“I know that,” Alex answered softly. “I knew it then. My mistake was thinking that I had something to offer you in return. My mistake was believing that I could change the truth, change myself, my whole life...
before
I told you.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, and she saw his hands tremble. He clenched them, lowering them to his side. His expression was haunting, desperate, hinting at what seemed almost like fear. “I suppose my biggest mistake was falling in love with a woman who expected and deserved better than me. That’s when it all began to fall apart: when I bought into your fantasy lock, stock, and barrel.”
Emmaline sailed toward them, her broad figure draped in layers of royal-blue sequined satin. She smiled and took Kennie’s icy hand in her warm one. “Why don’t we leave these men to their everlastin’ shenanigans, and we’ll go where we can get comfortable?”
Kennie glanced in desperation at Alex, but Budd Hunter already had him by the arm. Her eyes locked with Alex’s, pleading with him to stay. He couldn’t leave her dangling like this. He owed her an explanation. But Alex looked away from her and followed Budd across the hall and into the study, where several men were waiting, smiling, laughing...
While her world fell apart.
The Hunter living room was large enough to hold Kennie’s mother’s entire house. Kennie sank into an overstuffed chair, her heart and body numb.
“Once those men get started with their games, it’s like a siege,” Emmaline said, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “I know from experience that husband of yours will be one of the last to fold his hand. You can take your pick of any bed in the guest wing if you get tired.”
A place to hide...a place to cry her eyes out.
I’m already tired
, Kennie thought.
I’m scared
.
She wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare. She wanted to cry, but her pride wouldn’t let her. She simply had to endure. “Do you ever play with them?” she asked, groping for a level tone of voice, for words that wouldn’t betray her heartache.
“Oh, occasionally, if they play a little poker. I always did have a weakness for seven-card draw, deuces and tens wild.” Emmaline chuckled. “I suppose I feel a little wicked, throwin’ away more money on a turn of the cards than we used to earn in a month.” She shrugged her ample shoulders. “Some people raise Thoroughbreds. Cards are a lot cheaper, Budd always says, and nobody has to shovel up their shit.”
“Right,” Kennie Sue said.
Chris approached. Kennie’s heart hammered in her chest and her stomach was tied up in knots. The last thing she needed was another confrontation with Christopher Quincy Abbott at this moment.
“Christopher, why don’t you keep Kennie entertained while I make sure Marion has midnight snacks for the players.” Emmaline hefted herself to her feet, no small victory considering the deep, soft, carnivorous cushions in the sofa.
Chris dropped onto the ottoman at Kennie’s feet. “You look pretty shaky.”
“Last time I got shaky you flew me home,” she murmured.
He grew very still. “Let me make a phone call, and… yeah, that can be arranged.”
“No. That’s not what I want this time.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know. I can’t get one thing out of my head. Why would anybody in his right mind.... Why did Alex think he had to be rich for me?”
Chris sighed. “Knowing Alex as well as I do, I don’t think it was money that concerned him as much as his lack of a stable job and your need for security.” An impish grin played across his lips. “Alex’s occupation is unconventional, to say the least. He’s supported himself very well for years, without ever doubting his ability to do so. Impressing people is second nature to him. He’s like a chameleon. He fits in everywhere. Believe me—I know. But then....” He looked straight into her eyes, sympathetic but firm. “Alex finally met someone different. You made him feel devious for impressing you with his façade. “
“
Feel
devious?” she said, her tone acid.
“He saw something in you. Something he’d never had. And he knew honesty was the worst policy.”
Kennie didn’t have the energy to respond. She closed her eyes against her tears.
“All I can say is,” Chris said slowly, “he deserves another chance. But then I’m prejudiced. I’m his friend.” He patted her hand and left her alone to stare into the cold fireplace.
I’m prejudiced, too, she thought numbly. I love him.
From the very beginning she’d fought trusting Alex Carruthers, because it was her nature not to trust without good reason; yet her heart had always believed in him. She had fought her feelings, because a spontaneous, impulsive action had caused her mistake with Rusk, and Kennie Sue Ledbetter wasn’t foolish enough to make the same mistake twice. She had fought loving Alex, because he was a stranger.
But the stranger, the façade, seemed to have appeared less and less often.
The
real
Alex had lived with her, cared for her, loved her.
The Alex he wanted to be.
And she loved him. She loved him beyond reason, beyond what was safe and sensible. She’d believed in him, not because of his charm and polish but
in spite
of them. His confidence, his strength, had given the veneer substance. His security wasn’t rooted in a place or a background; it sprang from his belief that he could do anything, go anywhere, be anybody.
And for a brief time not only had she believed him, but he’d convinced her she could do the same.
The study’s double doors exploded and crashed against the corridor’s walls.
Kennie Sue jumped to her feet, whirled around and saw a man framed in the doorway of the book-lined room, his features florid, his tuxedo disheveled.
“Excuse me.” Alex slipped past him, his eyes hard and grim.
“Where the hell do ya think you’re going, Carruthers? Whatsa matter?” the man slurred. “Afraid you’re gonna lose that purdy shirt o’ yours?” he asked, the ice clinking in his glass as he tipped it to one side. His eyes narrowed as he sneered, “What kind of coward are you?
Alex slowly pivoted to face his accuser. “I’m not afraid of losing. Anybody here can tell you that.”
The man stumbled, grabbing the doorjamb to steady himself, then said, “I came here to match my skill against yours after hearin’ about you from Budd for years.”
Budd appeared behind them and shrugged apologetically to Alex.
“But maybe,” the drunk continued, “you aren’t so skillful at all, Carruthers. Maybe you’re a cheat who knows better than to tangle with the likes of me.”
The room fell into an electrically charged silence. Alex’s fists clenched. His shoulders bunched. His body grew rigid beneath his tuxedo jacket, leashed anger cloaked by only the trappings of civilization.
“Well, isn’t anybody gonna back me up?” the other man said, his belligerent voice shaking.
“Don’t pull anybody else into this,” Alex said. “This concerns just you and me. You didn’t come here to match wits or luck. You came because you’re desperate. You reek of desperation, sir, and there’s no way you’re going to beat me in that condition.” His voice dropped to velvet insult. “I don’t play with people who can’t afford to lose.”
Alex spun on his heel and strode past Kennie, not even glancing back to see if she followed.
As voices rose nervously, one angrily, Kennie took off after him, barely slipping out the front door before it shut behind him.
“Alex, wait!” she cried, rushing after him, but he was already charging down the path to the drive.
He stopped at the limo and braced his hands against its roof, his head bowed. “Let’s try not to drag this out, all right?” He swung around to face her, his features stony calm in the moonlight. “I’ll get you to Reno for the hearing Monday...or if you’d rather, I’m sure Chris will take you.” He shot his cuffs and then adjusted his lapels as if a polished image was the most important thing on his mind. “Yes. That would be easier.”
“Oh easy, sure,” she grated, “since you want to run.”
“We can at least make this graceful,” he said.
“That’s right, because you prefer to lose
gracefully
. You’re walking out on me—and all you’re worried about is being
graceful
because you lose so rarely..”
“I’ll give you whatever settlement you want, Kennie. But if you insist on an argument,” Alex said, jerking open the limo door, “get in. I’d prefer not to create a scene.”
She slid inside, waiting for him to join her and shut the door.
“You’re darn right I’m going to argue! Where I come from, people don’t throw away something good without a fight. They don’t smile politely and wish each other good day as soon as the going gets tough!”
“I’m tired of hearing about where you come from,” he snarked. “I
know
where you come from. I
envy
where you come from. But as you are so prone to point out, I’m all wrong for you and where you come from.”
“Yep, you sure are. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for
me
.”
He stared rigidly ahead, not meeting her eyes.
“Unless—“ Her voice broke, despite her best efforts. She pressed on. “Unless you were lying when you said you loved me.”
His head snapped toward her. “I wasn’t lying.”
Not until he spoke those words did she realize how tight a ball her heart was in, not until it eased with a relief so physical, she had to stifle a gasp, a sob. She took a deep breath. “Okay then. And I love you.”
“Since when has love ever been enough?” he asked, his bitterness a tangible thing between them. “You have no business loving me.”
“You should have thought of that before you drove me to it,” she muttered, her lower lip trembling. What was happening? Their lives were slipping away from them like so much sand. “Alex, I don’t care what you do or what your family had or didn’t have.” Desperate, she reached for his hand.
“Ah, sweet Kennie,” he groaned, and his fingers clenched beneath hers as if in a spasm of pain. “You didn’t know who I was.”